Thank you all for your support thus far. It means the world to me to see people reading (and hopefully enjoying) this tale from all over the world.
I was going to post this chapter tomorrow, but I decided to do it today, because why not? The pace of updates will slow eventually, though. Ratings and reviews are greatly appreciated; I would like to know what I am doing well or maybe not so well. Enjoy!
BRYANT FOREST, 18
"You need to stop being so impulsive, Bryant," my mother told me as soon as I stepped into the car. "Being outside during such a storm is very dangerous."
"I know," I replied, sighing lightly. "I guess I wasn't thinking."
"No, you weren't," my father said. "And acknowledging that is half the battle, so at least you're honest with yourself. That's the first step to changing your behavior."
Now that the initial adrenaline had faded somewhat, the pain on the bottoms of my feet suddenly became more acute. It felt as though a Beedrill were repeatedly stinging both of them, and was trying to figure out what parts would hurt the most.
I grimaced. "It really hurts," I muttered.
My mother turned to face me. "What hurts, Bryant?"
"I cut my feet on the gravel," I said. "And before you say it's on me because I went out without shoes…yes, I know that."
My father nodded, not taking his eyes off the road. After that, another thought occurred to me.
"Where are we going?"
"We're headed to an emergency shelter downtown," my mother said. "It's technically one of the city's slums, but on such short notice, it's the government's only option."
I sighed. Even though Moraga City was on the poorer end as Alolan cities went, I'd always considered my family to be solidly middle class. We didn't live in luxury, but we were decently comfortable with what we had.
And now, it had all been taken away from us.
"What about Alana?" I asked next, looking at the back of the car and realizing that the Ninetales was nowhere to be found. "Did we bring her?"
My mother turned around and frowned at me. She didn't answer my question, but she didn't need to; her face was proof enough.
I put my head in my hands. "Oh no…you really left Alana at home."
"We didn't have a choice," my father replied. "The emergency shelters don't allow pets, not even service Pokémon, and neither does Zachary's apartment."
"Still, why aren't we going to Zachary's place? It's a lot better than a slum, right?"
"His apartment only has space for himself and a roommate. We're not going to burden him further. Really, we're lucky to have any shelter at all; they think most of the homes in Fairview are going to be destroyed."
Destroyed. I let that word sink in.
Although our house had been nothing special, I'd still felt a certain degree of attachment to it. It was our house, after all. But now it would be gone.
"So what happens next?" I asked, desperate to find any good news (or at least non-catastrophic news.) "Are we going to find a new place to live? Get an apartment?"
"That's probably our only choice. Thank Arceus for storm insurance."
I didn't respond as we drove through bumper-to-bumper traffic for well over an hour. The rainwater from my sopping wet pajamas was oozing onto the seat, making me feel even more uncomfortable. Really, the last twelve hours had been one disaster after another.
For most of the ride, I couldn't stop thinking about Alana. She had been my closest companion for years, and now, just like that, she was almost certainly gone. And, if I'd stayed behind long enough, I could have prevented this somehow.
No, you couldn't have. Your parents were adamant about her staying home, and you couldn't have convinced them otherwise. It wasn't even their decision.
The logical, rational side of my brain wanted to excuse what I'd done, but the emotional part wasn't hearing any of it.
I grimaced again as the pain in my right foot made itself known. This time, it was clearly audible to my mother.
"What's wrong, Bryant? Why did you make that sound?"
I saw no reason not to be truthful. "My foot," I replied. "It hurts. It hurts a lot."
It was then that she noticed that my foot was bleeding, and she screeched so loudly that my father nearly crashed the car.
"Honey, please don't distract me," he grunted.
"I didn't mean to. It's just…Arceus, Bryant, why didn't you tell me sooner? We could have given you some first aid."
"I'll admit it, I wasn't wearing shoes. And that's on me. I'm sorry that I didn't think more carefully about it."
My mother narrowed her eyes. "Next time, Bryant, think before you act. That's the most important thing to remember."
The rest of the drive passed without anything notable happening. Before long, we arrived at the entrance to the city's slum district, Zoness, which was labeled as such by a sign over the gate.
Although the general public probably hadn't been expecting a storm of this magnitude, the government had evidently been preparing for it. Police cars idled next to the entrance, and a few officers, including one I recognized as an Officer Jenny, were directing traffic into the slums.
In this part of town, most of the "houses" were really more like shacks. Thanks to the headlights of the numerous cars here, I could tell that many of the walls had been painted bright colors, presumably in order to make the place look less repelling.
The slum district's residents were all clearly still in bed; I'd lost track of time, but it was probably about two in the morning. Even so, with all the noise around them, a lot of the slum dwellers would likely wake up soon.
"Where in Zoness are we going?" I asked my father. "Did they set up anything for us?"
"Well, I'd imagine some people will take refuge in the local Church of Arceus. That's probably the best thing for us to do."
I hadn't thought that the slum district would have built a house of worship, but clearly, I'd been underestimating their architectural skills. After making our way through what can only be described as a chaotic mess of traffic, as well as a maze of shacks, we found the building.
The Zoness diocese of the Church of Arceus was roughly the same size as the one back in Fairview. Even from the car, I could see that there were brightly colored stained-glass windows over the entrance, as well as a stream of people and Pokémon entering it.
My father parked the car, and we got out. Having been shielded from the rain by the vehicle for the last few hours, I'd forgotten just how powerful it was. Every drop felt like a hard tap on the head.
Once inside the church, I saw that the pews were absolutely full. I hadn't attended services back in Fairview, but I was pretty sure they usually weren't this packed - were they?
People and their Pokémon partners were squished together on the benches, with others squeezing underneath the pews. The aisles, too, were quite crowded. At the far end of the church, near the pulpit, there was a table where a Gardevoir was handing out name tags.
"I think we have to register as refugees here" my father said. "That's the only way they'll let us stay in this building."
It was rather remarkable, at least to me, that Moraga City had managed to band together so quickly in the midst of the storm. In times like this, some would say that what we lacked in cash, we made up for in camaraderie. (Of course, that didn't universally apply - just look at our crime rate.)
Anyway, as we were walking up to the pulpit to get registered, a wave of self-consciousness rose within me. Yes, most of the others who had escaped the storm looked rather disheveled, but they also weren't wearing soaking-wet pajamas.
I'm about to be the center of attention! They're going to see that I didn't prepare for our escape at all!
I felt the weight of dozens, probably a few hundred, eyes trained on me. Perhaps not everyone in the church was looking at my soaked pajamas, but enough of them were to the point where it felt like a lot.
The Gardevoir looked at me. "I see you're with your parents" she said, grabbing a name tag out of a box and handing it to me. "What's your name?"
"Bryant Forest" I replied, feeling much of my blood rush to my face. "I'm eighteen."
The Gardevoir frowned. "How did you know I was going to ask you that? Anyway, you can feel free to grab a spot here, any spot you like."
She had clearly meant well by saying that, but as I looked around the church sanctuary, I felt as though she were mocking me. There was hardly any space left; at least, none that would be large enough to fit someone my height.
"I guess I'll sit over there" I said, not referring to any spot in particular. I walked away from the Gardevoir before she could say anything else.
Had the situation not been so dire, I would have found the architecture stunning. The amount of color that went into the oil paintings of Latios and Latias, as well as the stained-glass windows depicting Arceus Himself, was mind-blowing. I could have analyzed it for hours.
When I found one corner of a nearby room, one of the few places in the church that definitely had the space for me, I was just about to sit down when a female voice announced, "There you are."
My heart stopped. How was it that we kept running into each other?
"Arceus, I just can't be free from you, can I?" Hannah said, crossing her arms in front of her. Her legs were already crossed as she sat on the floor next to a man and woman whom I assumed were her parents.
"I guess not," I replied. "I mean, we both had to get away from the storm."
"I beg to differ on that" she retorted. "There are plenty of other places to go."
"Personally, I would have rather stayed at my brother's apartment. It would be a lot better than a slum church."
Hannah glared at me, as though she found what I'd just told her extremely offensive.
"You have a brother?" she all but gasped, sounding like she considered it a betrayal for me not to have told her that.
"Uh, yeah" I said. "He doesn't live with us anymore, though."
"Still, that's a good thing to talk about on a first date! Better than ranting and raving about colors and all that, when we could have been getting to know each other better."
I frowned. "Really, that doesn't matter now, does it? We've got to move along in life, and now we're both stuck in this church for who knows how long."
"Well, maybe you should go read the Book of Arceus for the next few hours," Hannah responded. "That would be a much better use of your time than bothering me, or trying to sleep for that matter."
Although I was exhausted, sleep seemed out of the question; there were just too many bodies tightly packed together. If I rolled over, I'd wind up rolling right onto someone else. It wasn't happening.
"Bryant? Where are you?" I heard my mother half ask, half shout through the church. The sound echoed, bouncing off the walls, so I'm sure everyone in there heard my mother talk to me as though I were a little kid who'd gotten lost in the mall.
"I'm right here" I muttered quietly, standing up and walking over to my parents. Both of them had their eyes and mouths wide open in a look of exasperation.
"It's like we lost you again" my father told me sternly. "Next time, wait for us before you go somewhere."
"Oh my Arceus, Dad, I'm eighteen, not eight! There's no need to go all apeshit when I disappear for a bit."
My father shook his head. "I couldn't help but worry about you. By the way, how are your feet doing?"
"Huh?"
"Weren't they cut up pretty badly?"
"Oh yeah" I replied, having nearly forgotten about the stinging pain. It had lessened somewhat as I'd gotten used to it, but my feet were still slowly bleeding. "I guess…do you guys have any bandages or something?"
"Yes, we do" announced an unfamiliar, feminine voice.
I turned to find a Chansey carrying a first aid kit. I'd often associated this species with wide smiles, but that wasn't the case right now.
"I was stationed here by the Moraga Emergency Preparedness Department, or MEPD, to treat any wounded who came in here. I'll fix up your wounds nice and quick, boy."
The Chansey beckoned for me to follow her to a nearby bench, which was right next to the church's pulpit. As a result of the bench's position, most of the people currently in the church were able to watch as she used rubbing alcohol to clean the wound (which hurt even more than you would think) and then applied bandages to it.
I hung my head low as she did this, my face flushing. Literally everyone, or so it seemed to me, could tell that I'd been stupid enough not to wear shoes. At a minimum, they had to be wondering how I'd gotten hurt.
"And there we go!" Chansey told me. "Good as new."
"Could you please not be so loud?" I asked. "You're making a scene."
That really was no way to talk to the Pokémon who'd just treated my wounds, but I hadn't been able to resist it. Everyone in the building could see me, and she'd only drawn more attention to my own stupidity.
The Chansey frowned. "My apologies" she replied, in a tone that suggested she really wasn't sorry at all. "Anyway, does anyone else need treatment?"
I walked gingerly over to my parents, careful not to disturb the bandages on my feet. They both looked rather upset, which I suppose was to be expected, given the situation.
Hannah was still sitting in the same position. When I looked at her, she narrowed her eyes, frowning.
"Let's find a different place" I said sheepishly, gesturing for my parents to follow me back into the main sanctuary.
Once we were (hopefully) out of Hannah's earshot, we sat down in a different corner of the building, a small alcove with a piano and more oil paintings. My parents both gave me weird looks.
"Do you two have a history or something?" my mother asked. "Because you're sure acting like you know each other."
I nodded, seeing no reason not to be truthful. "Yes. Hannah was my date, the girl I met up with on Hinder."
"Hinder, huh? What an odd name for a dating website" my mom replied.
I shrugged. "I didn't name it. Anyway, what did you want to ask me about Hannah?"
"Nothing really," my father told me. "Based on what you told me about your meal together, it's no wonder she is a bit upset with you. Plus it's generally not a welcome occurrence to randomly see your ex around."
"She's not my ex. We were never official, and we'll never be official."
"Still, look at it from her perspective," my mother replied. "Her only impression of you is from your failed first date. She's probably going through a stressful time right now too, and seeing you might have only made it more so."
"Oh?"
"Well, for one", my father said, "she's probably lost her home. If she's here, she must live in Fairview. Or at least, she used to. You really have to be careful when talking to someone under these circumstances."
My mother spoke next. "That's right. And if you're ever going to be successful in any realm, you need to be able to talk about things you're not interested in. Do you understand that?"
I rolled my eyes. "Uh, yes. There's no need to give me a thirty-minute lecture every time."
"Well, there's no need to talk about colors first every time you meet someone new," she replied. "It seems like you really alienated her."
"Please stop it, Mom! I'm just…trying to process everything. This is too much for me right now, okay?"
My parents didn't push me any further after that. I think both of them understood that being forced to flee Fairview was bringing out the worst in all three of us; during a time like this, it was probably best to stay out of one another's way. Unfortunately, in a crowded church sanctuary, that wasn't really an option.
The clock on the basement's wall claimed it was three in the morning, but it might as well have been midnight based on how dark it was outside. The rest of the night felt interminable.
My pajamas did dry off eventually, but that didn't make me feel much more comfortable. It was rather warm in the basement, and I knew it would only become more so once the sun rose. When that happened, I would start roasting alive.
Not for the first time, I was kicking myself for my lack of foresight. Just a few more seconds at home could have prevented much of the last few hours' suffering.
Now I was sitting against the wall of the church's basement. Across from me was an Alolan Vulpix with her owner, a tall, skinny, blonde woman who seemed to be forcing a smile.
"It's okay, girl…we'll get out of this soon. You don't have to be afraid."
The sight of the Vulpix with its owner brought tears to my eyes. It made me think of life before the storm. Of Alana.
How could I not feel culpable for what had happened to her? How could I keep myself from visions of an Alolan Ninetales lying in a dead heap beneath tons of rubble?
It was all my fault.
"Hey, uh…could you quiet down? I'm trying to sleep" I said. It was a white lie; what I truly wanted was to stop having to think about Alana.
"I'm trying to comfort her," the blonde woman told me, frowning. "She's upset, so what else am I supposed to do? Besides-".
"Besides what?"
The Vulpix's owner glared at me. "You don't look as though you're trying to sleep. All you've been doing for the last hour is pacing back and forth. Not that I blame you, but the next time you lie, at least make it more believable."
After that exchange, I sat down on the floor and curled up into the fetal position. It was my favorite position in which to sleep, and I also took up as little space as possible, so it was a win-win.
Perhaps I got a bit of rest, perhaps not. It was hard to know, simply because I'm not the best judge of time.
All I know is that eventually, the sunlight started streaming in through the tiny windows into the basement. While this made the basement almost unbearably hot, at least I now knew that the storm was over.
"At last", the blonde woman said, not addressing me. "The sun has come out. Come on, Vulpix, let's head upstairs and see if they'll be serving us breakfast."
I rolled my eyes; fortunately, I don't think the woman saw me do that. That Vulpix was in for a rude awakening if she expected things to be better upstairs.
My body felt stiff from lying down on the hard floor, but I was able to walk up the stairs and back into the sanctuary. I don't know what I was expecting to see there other than the crowd of refugees, but even so, I managed to be shocked.
Most of the people in the church were backed into one corner of the building. Although there were a couple hundred of them, they were jammed so closely together that at least half the space was unoccupied.
What was more, almost all of them had eyes wide open, and a few were even screaming. I wasn't an expert, but I didn't need to be in order to feel the fear in the room.
Why are they reacting that way? There's no need to be so scared here, because we're as safe as we could realistically be. I don't see anything wrong.
"Dragonite!" a member of the crowd exclaimed, pointing directly forward.
I turned in the direction he was pointing, and I saw a large, light orange Pokémon with wings, perhaps seven feet tall or so. I recognized the species immediately.
"What's the Dragonite doing here?" I asked the Gardevoir in the pulpit, who didn't seem to have moved from that position all night.
I'll never forget the Gardevoir lady's words after that. That goes to show just how important they would end up being.
"A better question would be how he became a Dragonite. His name tag is on the floor, so if you want more information, just pick it up and read it."
I looked down at the carpet, where one of the name tags had fallen. It read: Hi, my name is: Frank Speech.
My eyes opened wider than one's mouth does at a dentist's office, for this was a name I knew well.
"Frank's from Fairview!" I exclaimed.
"Well, duh" the Gardevoir replied. "Why wouldn't he be if he were here? Much of that part of the city was destroyed."
I didn't think about the implications of the word destroyed just yet, but they would lurk in the back of my mind. There were more important matters at hand, though, one of which being that…
"He's one of our neighbors! He's literally right down the street from us, great friends with my parents, and you're telling me that Dragonite is him?"
"Look" interjected an annoyed female voice, directed right at me. "I know that's my husband, because I saw it happen! He just seized up and began to transform! It happened pretty suddenly!"
I turned to face Freya, Frank's wife, who was holding onto their daughter. Her long brown hair was rather frazzled, as though she'd been subjected to a mild electric shock. She did not look happy.
Before I could reply, she resumed talking.
"I never said I liked what just happened. But it happened!"
I frowned. "I never said you did either."
"You're not helping, Bryant! Anyway, if Chansey knows how to turn him human again, that'd be great."
The Chansey, who had been standing off to the side, frowned and shook her head.
"I'm afraid I can't help with that," she said. "Believe me, we're going to try everything we can to make this situation as manageable as possible, but there's only so much we can do."
Freya leaned forward and started sobbing. "My husband…he's a Dragonite! As if losing our home wasn't enough!"
The Chansey patted Freya on the shoulder, but Mrs. Speech swatted the healer's arm away. "That won't help one bit!" she spat.
"Ladies, please cut it out" I interjected. "We need to think rationally about this."
Freya turned to me, wagging a finger as though I were a Lillipup who'd pissed on her carpet.
"Bryant, why are you sticking your nose where it doesn't belong? This is about my husband, Chansey, and my daughter. It's not about you!"
"It is, though" I replied, standing my ground. "Because I care about Frank too. We were - we are good friends."
It was true. For some inexplicable reason, I got along very well with Frank Speech even though he was twice my age. I related to him in a way I'd never related to anyone else; perhaps it was his personality, or maybe I just didn't want too many friends my own age.
"He's got a point, Freya," Gardevoir, who hadn't spoken for some time, said. "Fairview is a community, and when a community is faced with a crisis such as this, it has no choice but to band together. At a minimum, we shouldn't be arguing like that."
"Fine" Freya snapped. Pointing directly at me, she said, "But I still think he needs to be less nosy."
"I have a name, you know."
"What did I just say, you two?" Gardevoir responded.
I sighed. "Fine. I get it."
After a tense silence between myself, Freya, and the two Pokémon, during which the rest of the "congregation" was our captive audience, Gardevoir cleared her throat.
"I would suggest we send Frank down to the basement and keep everyone else out of it" she announced. "Just in case this is a contagious disease. That way we run the least risk of it spreading."
Uh…isn't the Meowth already out of the bag on that?
I didn't want to be right. I hoped that Frank's transformation was somehow just an isolated incident, not indicative of what might happen to the rest of us. I hoped that, if necessary, Arceus was watching over me and would protect me from harm (even though I wasn't really a praying man.)
But the last day had not been kind to that idea.
